


#ForthIonCannons

by amyfortuna



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Invasion, Gen, Near Future, Scotland, Weapons of Mass Destruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was on my way to bed when the alien invasion happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#ForthIonCannons

I was on my way to bed when the alien invasion happened. Pausing at my landing window that cold January evening, I looked out to see the stars, as I did every clear night. The very tips of the Forth Rail Bridge, red curves all lit up in soft gold light, peered over the horizon at me, and beyond that, the Road Bridge, stark in grey steel. I couldn’t see where they were building the new bridge, over to the other side of the Road Bridge, but I knew well enough what it looked like, three tall structures, almost round in shape, well lit, rising up out of the water. Out of the corner of my window I could just catch a glimpse of the lights on top of them, illuminating them for the planes landing at nearby Edinburgh Airport. 

Looking up, a swift-moving light caught my eye and I followed it as it became larger, falling swiftly down, breaking into more lights in some sort of unusual shape. Like a true child of the 21st century, my first thought wasn’t “Aliens!” but “Terrorists!” and I let out a short, sharp scream, convinced I was about to die. But the flying lights slowed, took on form, hung dreadful in the sky, a ship. I’m not sure how high up it was, but it was close enough to tell that it wasn’t a plane or a helicopter, or anything like that. 

Time seems to expand outward at certain terrifying moments in a person’s life. In the old days, if you were in a car accident, as you were skidding away just after impact, it took just seconds but it felt like hours. The same thing happened here. It must have been just seconds that the ship hung above me in the sky but it felt like entire lifetimes. My heart didn’t beat, I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. 

And then the miracle. A brilliant blue light flashed up from the River Forth, then another, and a third. And I felt them before I heard them, a rumbling, low, BOOM - BOOM - BOOM. The house shook a little. 

The dreadful thing in the sky above us was illuminated three times, briefly, surrounded by those flashes of bright blue. And it just disappeared. It didn’t go away. It didn’t even discernibly break up. It turned to dust, high up in the sky. 

Immediately afterwards the snow began. Thick, white flakes, drifting down. I didn’t dare open my window. I hadn’t even got as far as moving yet. 

When, on shaky legs, I made my way downstairs for a cup of tea, and turned on the telly, it was to Nicola Sturgeon, looking very much awake for the lateness of the evening, telling everyone in the Lothians, Falkirk, and Fife to stay indoors all the next day, unless absolutely necessary to leave. Apparently, the weather would be very bad for a few days, until the dust was gone. I remember that the sunsets were utterly beautiful, though. 

Speculation was rife on Twitter, of course. #ForthIonCannons trended worldwide almost immediately. The headlines in the various papers the next day betrayed their feelings on Scotland’s possession and use of WMDs quite vociferously - the Daily Mail twisting itself in knots over whether to hate invading aliens or Scottish people more, the National praising Nicola Sturgeon as a hero for our time, the Telegraph asking what right Scotland had to ion cannons anyway. 

But time passed, and the ion cannons in the River Forth became yesterday’s news. The ‘new bridge’ was never completed, having never been needed in the first place. Life moved on.

The SNP, in the general election that year, took nearly all the Scottish seats available, and cut a deal with Labour. Within a month of the new government, a further independence referendum was announced to take place in early 2018, and this time it was a yes. Scotland’s ion cannons and the Battle of the Bridge, as it became known, were an icon of the Yes movement, and the argument about whether an independent Scotland could defend itself was not even brought up by the No campaign. You know what happened after that; you’re living in it. 

There’s a point to all this, dear grandchild. Those ion cannons are still there, waiting to be needed. Any day now. I know you sit there with your VR screen and never look out the window when the car drives us across the river, but maybe you should take a peek sometime. Three bright blue flashes could save your arse one day.

**Author's Note:**

> What has been seen cannot be unseen: [Queensferry Crossing](https://www.flickr.com/photos/trustdogs/19480634858/in/pool-queensferrycrossing/), in roughly its current state. Or google image search 'Queensferry Crossing night' for excellent pictures of the 'ion cannons'.


End file.
